


The Wizarding World of Alexander Hamilton

by leviosarose



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/F, F/M, Hamilton - Freeform, Hogwarts AU, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, but it will get better I promise, but nothing too graphic, dont want to give it away but someone who dies in the musical will die in this, i cant think of any others rn, i havent really planned out all the ships yet, literally just gonna put eleven year old Alex through the wringer for a bit, the biggest ones are there, there will be violence probably, uh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-29 09:16:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7678810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviosarose/pseuds/leviosarose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A messy Hogwarts AU inspired by tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alex's Eleventh Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> All character sorting was based on personal headcanons and my friends' ideas. Don't like them? Sue me. Not beta'd at all, feel free to tell me if I make any mistakes! Also, this chapter is going to be painful, so get ready.

The day Alex turned eleven was… eventful.  
It wasn’t the worst day of Alex’s life, but it certainly wasn’t the best either. But let’s start with the good part.

Alex had always wanted a pet. Unfortunately, people who can’t pay for their own food usually can’t afford to pay for a pet. Alex knew he and his mother were dirt poor, but that didn’t stop him from dreaming of wagging tails and wet noses. Okay, Alex wanted a dog. But beggars can’t be choosers, and there was no way he would turn down the opportunity to have a pet.

Alex told his mother not to get him any birthday presents this year, but she didn’t listen. Alex was raised in a frugal home , and he knew that repairing the water-damaged walls was top priortiy. Alex asked why this birthday out of them all was so extraordinary, but she refused to divulge her secrets. So Alex sighed dramatically and grinned and told her that all he needed to be happy was pineapple cake. Luckily, Alex’s mother blatantly ignored his request.

\-----

“Don’t shake the box, Alex!”  
A large box covered in silver paper sat on the small table in front of an extremely excited Alex. Despite his thrifty nature, Alex couldn’t help but buzz with excitement. The box had a few holes poked around the top, and the ribbon was carefully cut to avoid covering the holes. An inkling of an idea crept into Alex’s mind as he carefully opened the box.

Inside was a tiny, mewling kitten. It was quite a sight to behold; the kitten was hardly as large as Alex’s hand, yet it cried out like a much larger animal. It was the color of sand, dappled with white spots and darker brown markings. The cat looked wild and would have been intimidating if it were larger.   
“When the baker’s cat had kittens, I just had to go look,” Alex’s mother said with a sad smile, “and when he told me he was going to drown them because they were mutts, I just had to save one.”  
Alex looked up, horror marring his young features.  
“He was going to kill them for being mixed?” he asked, a note of terror entering his voice.  
“Yes. That man has no compassion.” she said bitterly.  
“Why did you pick this one?” he murmured, looking into the kitten’s deep green eyes. It looked back at Alex with fiery eyes that reminded him of his own.   
“He reminded me of you,” she said as she took his hand, “the smallest in the litter, yet so spirited.”  
Alex looked at the kitten one more time before grinning.  
“I know what I’ll call him!”  
“Qu'est-ce?”  
“Spitfire!”  
Alex’s mother laughed. “A perfect name!”  
Alex joined in his mother’s laughter and held the kitten close to his chest. It began to purr lightly, and Alex felt all at once very calm.

The calm vanished all at once in a flurry of feathers and a loud thunk. Alex’s mother hurried to the window in an attempt to see what had crashed into the glass. She gasped sharply and drew her hand up over her mouth.  
“What is it, mauma?” Ales asked worriedly.  
“Oh, Alex,” she cried, “you’re a wizard.”

\------

A stunned Alex sat frozen in his spot, not quite comprehending what she had just said.  
"I-I'm a... wizard?" he asked, voice full of uncertainty.

Alex had seen his fair share of crackpot shamans and witch doctors roaming about downtown where they sold spells and potions to tourists. He had always been forbidden from approaching them as they had a tendency to snatch children. Alex shuddered at the thought. 

"But, mauma, enchanteurs aren't real!" he said as his mother sat down beside him.  
"Oh, Alex, I should have told you when you were younger, but I couldn't with your father around, and-" she stopped abruptly as the words caught in her throat. Her hand returned to it's permanent place over her heart, and Alex moved to hold her other hand.  
"What do you mean, mauma?" Alex asked, his eyes somehow so old and so young at the same time.  
"Alex, there are people in this world who are... special. These people are called wizards." She looked up at him, meeting his wide eyes for a moment before continuing. "I... am one of those people, and so are you."

And these people can do- oh, what's the word- supercheries, magic tricks?" he asked skeptically.  
"Yes, Alex, but before a wizard can make the magic tricks work, they must go to a special school. There isn't one here in Nevis, so you'll have to go somewhere else. But, Alex, there's something you need to know-"  
She was silenced by a loud rapping on the door.   
"How can he be here already?" she said in an anguished tone. Alex watched nervously as she covered her face with her hands before standing up. She straightened her dull green blouse, set her eyes, and headed towards the door. Alex had always felt stronger watching his mother take on the world. He admired her ability to hide away anxiety and fear and get things done.   
Alex heard the door creak open, and could hear a man speaking in hushed tones.  
"You have no right to be here," he heard his mother say, her voice trembling slightly with anger.  
"Of course I have a right, he's my son."  
Alex didn't hear that right. Alex couldn't have heard that right, because his father left and he said he's never come back. "You don't have any right to send him to that damn school, Rachel, you know what will happen-"  
"Yes, I do. He'll be in a new country where the matters of his family life will stop haunting him. He'll have the same chances every other young wizard will have, and he won't be stuck on this island for the rest of his life!"  
Alex shivered. His mother never spoke like that. Well, she never spoke to Alex like that. When Alex was in the room, her tone was soft, gentle, soothing. There was no trace of Alex's mother in the woman standing in the doorway. 

"You have to think about what's best for him-"  
"What's best for him?" she all but shrieked. "You should have thought of what's best for him six years ago, when you left!"  
From where he was sitting, Alex had a clear view of his mother's crossed arms and tear-stained cheek. He couldn't see the man in the doorway, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. 

"Leave, James," she whispered, "get out of here, and don't come back."  
"Rachel-"  
"LEAVE!"  
The door slammed with a bang. Alex watched his mother as she stared at the door, tears rolling down her face.  
"Mauma," he said tentatively.  
Alex's mother turned to him and smiled,   
"It's alright, Alex, mon petit lion," she said with a sad grin.  
"So that was my...." Alex couldn't quite finish the sentence.  
"Yes, but I was hoping you would never meet him again. He is not a good person, mon cherie," she finished. Alex sighed as he was enveloped in a tight hug.  
"Why doesn't he want me to leave, mauma?" Alex asked, his voice muffled by his mother's embrace.  
"Some people don;t like wizards simply because they are different," she responded, her voice gentle,"but those people are ignorant and you must ignore them."  
Alex had heard this speech before, granted, with different words. When he had come home from school in tears because an older child had called him a 'bastard', she had said the same thing. "Ignore them Alex, all they have is words they stole from their parents. Your silence is louder than their words."  
As it so happened, he was later suspended for firing back a scathing response. He had never been very good at keeping his mouth shut. 

"I'll try, mere," he murmured, "I'll try to be good."  
"Thank you, mon cherie," she replied warmly, "now, let's get you ready to leave."

\------

She was dying.  
The surgeon told him bluntly, as if he wasn't eleven years old.   
"She'll be gone in a month or two," he said as he wrote something down on a notepad, "I'm sorry." His tone did not show any sign that he was sorry.  
Alex was escorted out of the room by a nurse, but he hardly noticed. He felt like he was hollow, like he was only the shell of person. Something had been ripped away from him, and it left a hole in his heart. 

They were hardly out the door when Alex's mother collapsed onto the ground. Alex, completely unsure of what to do, began to run down the street. He shouted as loud as he could, hoping someone, anyone, could help. A neighbor left to call a doctor, and then hours passed in a flash of people and movement until they got to here. Alex couldn't really remember what happened between then and now, but he decided it didn't matter. Nothing mattered when his mother dying. There was nothing to be done, the nurse said. We can help her pain, but she's too ill to continue on, the nurse said. The nurse said a lot of things, but Alex didn't hear any of them. He was a ghost, a remnant of himself, something left over after everything that mattered to him had been scraped away. The nurses whispered beside him, occasionally glancing in his direction.  
"He doesn't have anyone to take care of him-"  
"His father-"  
"Is an asshole-"  
"But he's alive-"  
"It won't work-"  
Their nervous chatter reminded Alex of the birds who tittered outside his window on sunny mornings. He put his face into his hands, covering his ears to hide from the endless noise. Someone cooed gently and there was a hand on his shoulder, but he couldn't care less. Not when his mother was dying. 

\-----  
She was dead.  
The doctor had said a month or two. She lasted a week.  
The nurses who chattered like monkeys said she wasn't in pain, that she was in a better place now. Alex told them to go to a better place.  
He was assigned to an American social worker, a smaller lady with caring eyes and a painfully Southern drawl. He was being sent to some boarding school in Scotland, and he would spend summers with his Scottish cousin. He had never heard of this cousin before, and Alex was no happier to find that he was the son of his father's brother. Alex didn't want to go to school, he just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep. He just wanted to lie down and wake up and be curled up in his mother's arms. The social worker was kind enough, saying that he didn't have to leave until September. She planned the funeral, took care of the house, made Alex comfortable. Some part of him was grateful for her company, but the other half wanted to fling himself off a cliff. Days passed in a blur, and Alex was more than a little surprised when he was shaken awake by Mrs. Brun. 

"It's August 29th, Alexander. I'm bringing you to the airport today," she said kindly.  
"Airport..." he said, still mostly asleep.  
"Your new school starts in a few days, so get up and get dressed!"

\----

Alex had never been on a plane before, but he found the whole experience nauseating.  
I will never do that again, Alex though to himself with a grimace. Alex looked around the airport carefully, his large brown eyes taking in the sites in a sort of stupor. It was massive, and Alex was certain his whole island would have fit inside. Thousands of people milled about, and he suddenly felt very small. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, Alex ducked into a quieter corner to collect his thoughts. Alex unfolded the paper Mrs. Brun had given him before he boarded:

Hi Alex! Here's a few things to remember when you land in London:  
The airport is called Heathrow, and the train station you need to get to is called King's Cross. Remember how I told you about taxis? There will be one waiting for you outside. Follow the signs for the "taxi circle," okay? Good luck Alex!

With love,  
Mrs. Brun

Alex refolded the paper and shoved it into his pants pocket. Looking up, he was overwhelmed by the sheer size of the signs that hung from the ceiling. He saw signs for baggage claim (whatever that was), for restaurants (whatever those were), and eventually found one that read "traffic circle- this way (all gates) (gates a and b) (for gates c and d exit southwards) TAXIS".   
Alex looked down at the plastic crate in his arms and sighed.  
"How are we going to do this, Spitfire?"  
The kitten mewled in response, hardly two months old but already sensitive to Alex's voice.  
Alex grinned.  
"We're going to do this together, Fiery, that's how."


	2. Platform Nine and Three... What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Okay, Fiery, its platform nine and three...what?"  
> Alexander glared at the ticket he had received in exchange for his letter from Mrs. Brun. The platform number was written clear as day in the right hand corner, but Alex couldn't seem to locate that number anywhere else in the station. The platform signs that hung overhead read only whole numbers: 1,2,3, and onward. The security man leaning against a pillar only shook his head when Alex asked for help. How was he supposed to get to school if he couldn't even find his train?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I have a few of my own headcanons about how modern!Hogwarts works.  
> First thing, this is a modern au, so all of this is happening in the present day. 2016 London is very different from 1980 something London, so this won't follow Harry Potter canon at all.  
> I like to think that Muggleborns who don't know anything about Hogwarts are told to trade in their letters for a ticket. The ticket has some secret writing on it that tells them where to ask for help, as Alex will soon find out :)  
> Also, there are some wizards and witches who masquerade as security and help lost kids find Plat9&3/4. They can make the wall look less like a wall for kids who are scared, and help kids get on the train in time.

"Okay, Fiery, its platform nine and three...what?"  
Alexander glared at the ticket he had received in exchange for his letter from Mrs. Brun. The platform number was written clear as day in the right hand corner, but Alex couldn't seem to locate that number anywhere else in the station. The platform signs that hung overhead read only whole numbers: 1,2,3, and onward. The security man leaning against a pillar only shook his head when Alex asked for help. How was he supposed to get to school if he couldn't even find his train?

"Excuse me, sir, are you lost?"  
Alex turned to find himself facing a slight woman in a security uniform. Her light brown eyes reflected her kind smile, and Alex was violently reminded of his mother. It took tremendous effort to keep from being swallowed by emotion, but Alex powered through. He looked up and saw that the lady was still smiling, although her eyes seemed a touch worried now.

"Yes, I'm a little lost," Alex admitted, his cheeks beginning to feel hot.  
"Oh, let me see if I can help you," the lady cooed as she held out her hand. Alex handed her the ticket, feeling a soft bubbling of wariness as she took it from him. Logically, nothing bad could happen by giving her the ticket, but something about giving it up put him on edge. But soon enough, she was smiling and handing the ticket back to him. He swallowed the last licks of anxiety and forced a smile that mirrored her own. She laughed, and it was such a ridiculous sound that Alex's smile widened into something real.

"This is a special platform, no wonder you couldn't find it! Its only for special people, so its unmarked." The woman bent down so she was level with Alex and pointed ahead.  
"D'you see that hanging sign that says 'Platforms Nine and Ten'?" she asked. Alex nodded uncertainly.  
"That brick wall right underneath is where you want to go," she finished, giving Alex another butterscotch-sweet smile.  
"The... wall?" Alex questioned, face full of unhidden doubt. Who was this woman?  
"That's the one!" she replied brightly.  
"But what do I...do, when I get to the wall? There aren't three platforms down there, I checked," Alex said confidently.  
"Oh, but there are! Come with me, I'll show you."  
She offered Alex her hand, and he took it gingerly. _This should be fun,_ Alex thought grimly.

\----

It was just a wall.  
That's all it was, plain and simple. There wasn't a single thing about it that made it any more special than any other wall. It was just a wall.  
The woman beamed at it like it was made of gold, but it was nothing more than a shabby brick wall. 

"The platform is behind this wall, Alex, you just have to get to it," she said cheerfully. Mrs. Smith, as she had introduced herself, was being infuriatingly secretive.  
Alex looked at her hesitantly. There was no there was a platform behind the wall. He had searched the whole area earlier. All that was behind the wall was open space and a bench for passengers to wait on. 

"But, Mrs. Smith, there really isn't anything there!" Alex argued. He was getting annoyed by her unerring sunniness, and he was beginning to think that this was just some kind of joke. _Why does everyone think they could can take advantage of me?_ A hot ball of irritation began to boil inside of him, and he was suddenly aware of the unbearable humidity that filled the station.  
"Alex, be patient," Mrs. Smith warned in a tone that was dangerously patronizing. Alex had had just about enough of this and was contemplating just walking away when the wall began to change. The brick quivered and shook until it was nearly translucent. Alex gasped as he watched people mill about on the other side of the wall. Children laughed and ran about while their parents looked on. Older children pushed carts loaded with suitcases, books, and... owls? Alex looked down at the cart Mrs. Brun had packed for him. His meager clothing was packed into a suitcase on the bottom, and a leather trunk held his books and belongings. Spitfire was sleeping happily in his crate, unaware of the magic going on around him.  
Mrs. Smith smiled at him, but this time it wasn't her usual sunshine-smile. This time, it was laced with mischievous energy and practically buzzed with child-like excitement. Alex couldn't help but smile back as he watched the people in front of him.

"That's a cool trick, madame, but how did you do it? Are you a....?" Alex's sentence vanished into the air as he realized the truth.  
"The word you're looking for is 'witch', Mr. Hamilton," she said, punctuating the sentence with a chuckle,"and you're going to miss your train."  
Alex could hardly believe his eyes. A real witch was standing in front of him, making a solid brick wall see-through. It couldn't be possible... the train!  
Behind the crowds of teary-eyed parents, the massive steam train was slowly beginning to make its way down the tracks.  
Mrs. Smith kneeled in front of Alex and put her hands on his shoulders. Looking him straight in the eyes, she murmured, "This isn't going to be easy, Alexander. Not everyone knows about magic, and those who do don't always like wizards who don't have wizard parents." The words came out awkward and heavy, and Alex knew she was trying to put it all gently.  
"Everyone back home was like that already, so I know what it's like. I need to get on the train, miss," he finished, glancing over his shoulder. 

"Right!" she said with a bright grin. The atmosphere cleared and the sun shone again. "Just run right through that wall, and get on the train!"  
"Through the wall?" Alex repeated, but he was already being swept up. Mrs. Smith all but shoved him through, and he scrambled to regain his footing. The wall returned in a flash of red brick, and Alex screamed as it raced towards him. He was still screaming as he fell forwards onto the platform, and somewhere to his right an owl screeched in response. 

"Hey, man, the train's leaving."  
Alex, who had unintentionally curled into a ball, looked up and found himself face to face with an owl. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but closed it again as the bird shuffled to reveal a worried looking boy.  
"There isn't another train, so you might want to get up." 

\-------

It's hard to be homesick when you're holding an owl.  
After helping him onto the train, the mysterious boy wrapped in a green and silver scarf had vanished; leaving Alex to guard his belongings. Alex never intended to take the gorgeous jet-black owl out of its gilded cage, but it became quite noisy as the train started to pick up speed. Not wanting to bother the other children around him, Alex carefully released the latch that held the bird hostage. In a flurry of feather, it threw itself from the cage with a victorious hoot. It settled happily on the luggage rack opposite Alex and proceeded to watch him through hooded green eyes. After a few moments of silent judgement, it flew down from its perch and into Alex's lap. The bird took a few cautious steps before lying down with its head tucked under its wing. It looked quite comfortable, and Alex wasn't sure what would happen if he tried to move the foreboding creature. With a sigh of resignation, Alex leaned back against the train seat and hoped that boy would come back.


	3. The Hogwarts Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?"
> 
> "That depends, who's asking?"  
> The laughing boy looked happy as he turned around, but his face was void of joy as he realized who he was talking to.  
> "Oh, it's you."
> 
> Alexander smiled happily at the older boy before continuing, "Yeah, it's me, and I just have a few questions-"  
> He was cut off as a member of Burr's entourage murmured something to him, causing the whole party to laugh. Alex didn't quite catch it, but it was something along the lines of "those damn first year Ravenclaws." 
> 
> "What's a Ravenclaw?" Alex asked cheerfully, and Aaron covered his face with his hands.  
> "I'm stuck with you, aren't I?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in this chapter, you get to see what happens when Alex imprints himself on Burr like a baby duckling! Fun times. Enjoy!
> 
> More modern headcanons:  
> So since owls are like mail, I have this hc that all owls know each other by name. Like when you adopt an owl, you have it pick its name right there so it can be magically added to the owl database. So, if you say send this to 'blank's' owl 'Owl's Name', your owl would understand and do that. So instead of phone numbers or whatever, people put their owl's name on their luggage and stuff :)

Alex checked his watch. An hour had passed since Owlie, as he had been named by an ignorant Alexander, settled into Alex's lap. He was beginning to get antsy, but was desperate to keep the bird asleep. Beautiful as he was, the bird was intimidating. _Much like his owner,_ Alex thought slyly. Alex shuffled slightly under the weight of the bird and considered his options. He could risk waking the bird if he tried to put it away, or he could bare the pain of not moving for another three hours. 

Rather impulsively, Alex shot up from his seat, barely managing to pull the bird into his chest before it fell. He stood stock still and hopelessly yearned for the bird to stay asleep. Much to his surprise, the bird hardly shifted and remained asleep. Alex silently cursed his impulsive nature as he settled the bird into its cage. He released a pent up breath as he slumped onto the bench. From this angle, he could see a name placard on the trunk above him. Curious, he attempted to pull the trunk down onto the seat. It was immensely heavy, and Alex rolled his eyes involuntarily. The top was covered with silver swirls, all of which seemed to be made from real silver. Images of foxes and snakes danced along the bottom, their eyes gleaming emerald. It was all a bit heavy handed, and it reminded Alex of a Norse myth he read once when he was younger. But he had to admit, the silver and greens looked glorious against the black background. Alex looked up at the owl asleep in its cage and marveled at how well everything came together. The trunk was heavy, but Alex eventually managed to flip it over. The placard was just as ornate as the front of the trunk, and he realized that it was made of solid silver. Alex felt a familiar sliver of anger rising in him. He and his mother had lived off of scraps for years, yet there were people out there who could afford _this_. It made Alex sick to his stomach.

He nearly groaned out loud as he removed a fine leather tag from its ostentatious sheath. The tag was stitched with silver thread (of course, Alex thought as he tried not to roll his eyes again) and was neatly framed by a silver snake. The creature ran around the stamped print in a curving square, seeming to writhe and squirm as if it were alive. Alex squinted and held it up to his eyes.  
"Aaah!" he cried, nearly throwing the card across the room. To his horror, the snake really _was_ moving. The sterling creature moved across the card in an endless circle, chasing its own resplendent tail.  
Alex forced himself to examine it once more, and quickly found the type it was protecting. 

**Mr. Aaron Burr  
** Reachable by owl, owl answers to name 'FREDERICK'  
If found, please return to Mr. Burr at 1776 Clermont St, New York City, New York. 

Alex wasn't surprised to find that the owl's name was as pretentious as Mr. Burr's luggage. Everything about him screamed "fake," but he was the closest thing to a friend Alex had. Alex turned back to Spitfire, who was just beginning to wake up. 

"Well, it's time to go find Mr. Burr."

\------

"Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?"

"That depends, who's asking?"  
The laughing boy looked happy as he turned around, but his face was void of joy as he realized who he was talking to.  
"Oh, it's you."

Alexander smiled happily at the older boy before continuing, "Yeah, it's me, and I just have a few questions-"  
He was cut off as a member of Burr's entourage murmured something to him, causing the whole party to laugh. Alex didn't quite catch it, but it was something along the lines of "those damn first year Ravenclaws." 

"What's a Ravenclaw?" Alex asked cheerfully, and Aaron covered his face with his hands.  
"I'm stuck with you, aren't I?"

"Is that a bad thing?" Alex looked at Burr expectantly. He hugged Spitfire closer and waited for an answer. 

"No, I guess not," came the tired response, "Let's just go back to my car."  
\----

**Author's Note:**

> ps. hmu on my tumblr! @leviosarose
> 
> so I don't speak French fluently but I'm trying here:
> 
> enchanteur- wizard, sorcerer, Alex's word for any witch/wizard  
> supercheries- magic tricks, deceptions, illusions, Alex's word for magic  
> qu'est-ce - what?  
> mon cherie- my love  
> mere- mother


End file.
